


Under Pressure

by EvilColonelSanders



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Athlete Castiel (Supernatural), Athlete Dean Winchester, BAMF!Cas, British Cas (b/c why not?), Child Abuse, Depression, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mysterious Castiel (Supernatural), Suicide Attempt, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-27 03:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13871757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilColonelSanders/pseuds/EvilColonelSanders
Summary: How do you determine when you truly know somebody? Is it when you know their name? Their home life? Who they want to be in 10 years? Or do you ever truly know?This story takes place at George H.W. Bush High School in East Texas.Dean Winchester is the captain of the football team and he has big plans for the future. His only crutch is his father’s abusive tendencies that his mother tries to hide from the world. He’s really good at faking smiles and wearing long sleeve shirts. Castiel Novak is head of the track team. He’s set both school and state records. His only crutch is the activity he likes to take part in during his free time. He’s really good at avoiding awkward situations and at forgetting for short periods of time. The lives of these boys soon will change as they find themselves taking a peak behind the curtain at what the other is going through. Will what they find out be too much to handle, or will they help eachother out? Time will tell.





	1. As the World Falls Down

**Author's Note:**

> (yes I totally titled this after ‘Under Pressure’ by Queen and David Bowie)  
> Not really 100% sure the direction I wanna go with this, but I’ll see as I go along. Gonna have a bit of mixed perspectives.
> 
> Just thought I’d say that I love David Bowie and I’ll incorporate his music and several references to him within this b/c why not? (I’m sure you could tell based off of the title and the chapter titles)

* * *

_I shuffled over to the bathtub and twisted the rusty nozzle that had a blue C as far as it would go. The pain in my stomach was pounding at me- making me want to scream. When the water had risen up enough, I made my way into the freezing cold tub. I didn’t even bother to undress- afraid of what I’d see underneath. I silently thanked a god I didn’t believe in for it being winter._

_Half of me wanted to drown. The other half just wanted the pain to go away. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. The whole 9 yards. My eyes travel up to the ceiling and just stare as I daze off to another place. I’m not quite sure where this place is, but anywhere is better than here in this cracked bathtub, in this house that held more secrets than anyone cared to admit._

_The buzzing from the broken light hanging above the mirror jerked me back to reality. A reality that destroyed who I would be in the future. Sadness and mourning for who I once was crept around the corner, but I refused to let it in. I was numb. The icy water seemed to do its job- I wasn’t feeling anything. It was nice, but the tub began to warm._

_Rising to my feet, I got out of the bathtub, not caring about the water pouring from my drenched coat and pants. Throughout the day, the pain never came back. Only the riveting self-loathing ate away at my mental health, but I couldn’t bring myself to cry or laugh over how pathetic I was._

_I soon realized that my abilities to hate or love or want was completely gone. I felt nothing. Trapped inside my dark head all alone._

_I never really had much, but whatever little I did have was left back in that cold water. I was numb. Unfeeling. Gone._

But this was 3 years ago.

 

                           * 

 

“I’m not going to tell you again Alphonso, take a shower. You stink.” Castiel yelled to his defiant little brother.

”My name is Alfie! And no I don’t!” 

“Whatever you say Albatross.” Castiel laughed to himself as walked back to Alfie’s room. “Damn kid, did something die back here?” He mocked as he pinched his nose.

Alfie stood up walking over to his big brother to try and push him out, but Castiel grabbed him by his legs and began to carry him to the bathroom. “What the hell! Stop!”

”Language!” He pretended to be taken back as he dropped Alfie into the small white tub. “Shower. Now.”

”Oh all right.” He complained.

Walking out, Castiel shook his head. He turned on the stove and began cooking a late dinner for Alfie and himself. After accidentally crushing 3 eggs, he stopped. “Grilled cheese it is.” He walked to the fridge to retrieve the cheese.

Less than 10 minutes later, Alfie walks into the kitchen from his shower and starts to sniff around with a displeased look on his face. “Grilled cheese again?” Castiel frowned.

“Its all I can make.” He he continued to put the messy sandwiches on a plate. “I mess everything else up.” 

Alfie turned his head a bit and looked at him. “Its okay Cassie. I love your grilled cheeses.” 

Castiel finally looked up, “you _know_ I don’t like when you call me that.”

”Then don’t call me Alphonse, or Albatross, or Alphonso, or Alfred.” Alfie flashed a big smile, “Its only fair.”

Castiel handed him his plate and ruffled his hair. “Eat up. You have a big day tomorrow.” 

“The First day of 6th grade is not a big deal. It sucks.” 

He shook his head, “Nonsense. You’re going to middle school, Alfie! Thats sounds pretty big to me.”

He shakes his finger at his big brother. “No way. Its going to suck. The 8th graders are gonna pick on me. Its stupid.”

Castiel playfully smacks him on the arm. “Hey, if anyone picks on you I’ll kick their ass. And I give you permission to fight them if you want.” 

Alfie shakes his head, “I’m not like you, Cas. I’m not strong and I sure as hell won’t be winning any fights.” He looks down. “I’m a nerd and I like books.”

”A lover not a fighter. I see.” He smiles. “Just stand up for yourself. Okay?”

Alfie nodds, and they finish eating in silence until they get up to throw away their cheap paper plates. 

“Cas?” 

“Whats up?” He looks down to Alfie.

Alfie stammers, “H-how are you doing?”

Castiel laughs, “Um. I’m pretty good Alf, how ‘bout you?”

He sighs, “You know what I mean. _How_ are you doing?”

Castiel sighs, ”Thats not something you should worry about. I can take care of myself.” He’s clearly frustrated so Alfie gives him a quick hug and runs off to his room. 

Soon after he leaves, Castiel finishes taking out the trash and then walks back to his room and lays down on the small twin bed. He’s grown so much recently that his feet nearly hang off. But its okay. 

He reaches over to his wooden nightstand and grabs his phone and headphones. Before he retracts his arm, he stares at the black swirls of ink across his arm. He doesnt have many, but he likes tattoos. They’re good for covering up scars and showing something more meaningful, especially the one on his back.

His eyes land on the words written above the crease of his elbow. “Why not?” He says out loud.

Breaking his gaze, Castiel puts in his headphones and puts a shuffle on his ‘Rock’ playlist as he prepares for another sleepless night.

 


	2. Fill Your Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Don’t want to spoil it, but if you have a specific aversion to any of the tags, then stop reading I suppose.

“Fuck!” Dean yelled as he hit the steering wheel of his dad’s car. The blue illuminated numbers read 6:43pm. “Dad’s gonna kick my ass.”

He opens the door and slowly makes his way to the house. He has a sick feeling in his gut. He’s 13 minutes past the time he was supposed to be home.

Dean makes it all the way up the steps and reaches for the handle on the mahogany colored door, but before he could grab it, a force far strong than him yanked the door open. It was none other than John Winchester.

The man had nothing but hate in his eyes. His grey hair and tired features were very apparent. The amount of alcohol he consumed in his life had aged him far beyond his years.

“You were supposed to be home 15 minutes ago!” John gripped Dean’s arm and threw him inside, causing him to hit the back wall. “Why are you late?”

Rubbing his arm, Dean starts in a low but rushed voice, “There was a lot of traffic and I tried to hurry, but I didn’t want to get pulled over and-“

John pushed him back, “Save it, Dean. Get your ass upstairs and go to bed. I don’t want to deal with it tonight. You start school tomorrow, don’t need a repeat of last year.”

Dean ran up to his room and instead of going in, he traveled down the hallway to his little brother’s room to make sure he was okay.

When he reached the door, a boy with shaggy brown hair looked up to his big brother and ran to him with a hug, “Hey Dean! Are you okay? I heard Dad yelling at you.”

Dean smiled and hugged him back, “‘Corse I’m alright Sammy! You excited for school tomorrow?”

Sam clapped his hands excitedly yet quiet and began to tell Dean all about his classes and things he’s looking forward to.  
  
Before Sam can finish showing off his text books, a small knock is heard at the door. Dean gets up quickly to go open it.

On the other side of the door is a blonde woman in a pink night gown. She holds a smile on her face when she sees her two boys. “Hey Dean, hey Sam.” She goes in to hug Dean.

“Hey mom.” He returns the hug.

“I just wanted to say goodnight to you both. I love you guys.” Sam hops up to give her a hug. They both return the _love you’s_ and watches as their mom leaves.

“Well i’m gonna take this as a queue to hit the hay as well, ay Sammy?” Sam in return frowns. “What, dude, i’m tired.”

“But I never finished showing you my math book.” He looks down to his feet and pretends to be absolutely devastated.

“Okay listen here, nerd,” Dean says with a chuckle, “show me tomorrow, i’m tired.”

Sam laughs, “I’m not a nerd. I just enjoy school!” Dean rolls his eyes, “but good night.”

“Same to you, Sammy.” He says as he closes Sam’s door and heads down the hallway to his room.

With a sigh of relief, Dean strips down to his underwear and lays in his bed- wrapping himself in the assortment of blankets scattered across his mattress.

As he slowly drifts off, he can’t stop thinking about John’s words. _Don’t want a repeat of last year._

He soon puts a memory to that line and starts breathing heavy as he drifts off.

 

                                  *

 

_“Come on boy. You have school tomorrow. That also means football season so you better have all of your shit”. The smell of beer on John’s breath may have been enough for secondhand intoxication._

_”Dad about that.” Dean shrunk back into his seat. “I don’t think I want to play football anymore. I want to focus on my schooling.” His voice trailed off as the back of John’s hand connected with his face._

_“You gotta be fucking kidding me. You’re a damn idiot. God knows you don’t do good in school, your only shot at a decent future is football.”_

_In a quiet almost inaudible tone, Dean replies, “its my decision, and I don’t think you should have control over my life.” Bad choice. Very bad choice.—_

 

_Dean laid on the floor where John left him. He couldn’t stop the tears from pouring out of his swollen eyes and the short inhales coming from his split lips._

_To be honest, it wasn’t even a big deal that he had to keep playing football. It was the fact that he had no say in his life. That he was so worthless he couldn’t even make decisions for himself._

_He managed to stand up and walk to the bathroom. Leaving the door cracked behind him, he sat on the floor next to small cabinet that held all of the bathroom supplies. Toilet paper, toothpaste, extra toothbrushes, shampoo, shaving cream, razors._

_He stared at the pile for several minutes before reaching for a razor and tweezers._

_With the tweezers, he pulled one of the razor blades out of the plastic handle and held it. Squeezing it too tight, blood dripped from his hand and more tears fell from his eyes._

_Not because it hurt, but because he couldn’t feel it._

_Dean wondered if he was the only one who felt this broken._

_Parents are supposed to love you. Not hit you so hard you can’t see straight._

_Dean loved Mary with everything in him. But he also hated her with every bone in his body for not getting him and Sammy away from John. And John. He’s been like this for as long as he can remember._

_Even as little kids, he was always rough with him. But Dean would be damned if he ever treated Sammy that way. Not his little brother. John was so awful to Dean to the point that he couldn’t deal with it anymore, but he did- afraid that he would just go to Sammy next._

_After a long moment of silence, he held the razor against his thigh. Disregarding his khakis, he cut through the light brown material and pulled the blade to the left, and then to right, and to the left again._

_Dean watched his pants turned a crimson color as the smell of iron filled the room. Continued this motion on both legs several times, just staring down at the growing stains. It was mesmerizing.  
_

_He moved the bloody razor to his wrist and began to draw a long vertical stripe down his forearm. But as soon as he pressed it into his skin, Mary ran into the room and took the razor away._

_She wrapped her arms around Dean and yelled for John to help carry him to the car. He couldn’t hear as vulgar words were thrown back and forth between the two. He didn’t even remember seeing Sammy. Just red._

_He was surprised to find that the hospital didn’t even question his dad’s “I guess he was been bullied for a while and it just pushed him to the edge.” bullshit excuse._

_When the entourage crowding in the room noticed his consciousness, they flooded around him, smothering him in an unsettlingly quiet atmosphere._

_The feeling of this began to creep into his actual consiousness,_ and Dean jerked awake to the sound of his alarm clock going off. 

“Wonderful.” He groaned as he trudged to the bathroom for a shower. He looked down to see the jagged scars on his thighs and laughed emptily as he continued to wash off nonexistent dirt. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think please. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.


	3. Moonage Daydream

“Rebel, rebel. You’ve torn your dress. Rebel, rebel. You’re face is a mess. Rebel, rebel. How could they know? Hot tramp, I love you so!” Castiel quietly sang along to the music as it blared from his dingy blue headphones which he began to take off.

He looked over at the alarm clock. 6:00am. 30 minutes before he has to get Alfie up for school. 

Oh yeah... School. A loud audible groan escaped from his mouth as he rolled out of his squeaky bed, onto the even squeakier hard-wood floor to the kitchen. 

Stealthily, Castiel took bread from the cupboard and stuck it into the 1980’s toaster that was obviously on its last leg. He then moved to the fridge to grab the butter and jam. 

It wasn’t the best breakfast ever, but he was sure Alfie would like it better than grilled cheese. He chuckled to himself.

Castiel walked over to the window and stared out at the diverse neighborhood. Some houses looked brand new with several lawn accessories to spice things up. Then there were the run-of-the-mill section 8 houses. Rusted handrails, torn shingles, and weathered brick defined these homes. The Novak residence wasn’t horrible, but it also wasn’t great. More so sub-par. Of course when their mom had first bought it, it was run down, but she and Castiel did a good job fixing it up. Alfie even helped plant the small flowers that littered the front garden. 

Castiel smiled at the memory of them all pitching in to help the pathetic little house. Getting lost in his thoughts, Castiel forgot about the toast. As soon as he turned around, the loud pop noise came from the toaster, causing him to drop the jar, spilling the glass and all of the contents. 

Breathing heavily, Castiel rushed to clean it up, hoping he didn’t wake Alfie. Lord knows that boy needed all the sleep he could get, but he soon realized he had failed when he saw his little brother rush in there.

”Cas are you okay?” Alfie walked up to him, rubbing his eyes. 

Castiel sighed deeply, “Yes, i’m okay. Sorry that I woke you, the toaster went off and it gave me a fright.” 

He smiled back sympathetically, “I’ts all good. Just look out, I think you cut yourself on the glass.” 

Sure enough, he looked down and blood was trailing down his palm, into the thick purple jam. “Is it okay if you just have butter and toast this morning? I think I contaminated the jam.” He frowned.

”Thats great. Better than grilled cheese.” They both laughed at that. Castiel finished cleaning up the mess, and prepared Alfie’s breakfast. “Are you not eating, Cas?”

He shook his head. 

“Why not?” Alfie frowned.

”Just not hungry little bro.” He smiled. That was the truth. Although it was a bit of a euphemism for ‘I have no appetite whatsoever and I don’t know why.’ But Alfie’s just a kid, he doesnt need to hear that.

After a long minute, Cas walked back to his room to start getting ready. He opened his closet and pulled out a long sleeved blue shirt and skinny black jeans. It was his first day at a high school in America and he didn’t want his tattoos scaring anyone off. 

He then slipped on black boots. Not that he had any other shoes, but they worked nicely enough.

With one last look at himself in the mirror, he walked to the door and locked it. Next he reached under his bed and pulled out the non-water-filled water bottle along with a glass liquor bottle. 

Castiel poured the alcohol into the plastic and screwed on the cap. It was going to be a long day.

Shoving it into his backpack, he finally emerged from his room to see a fully dressed Alfie. He laughed.

”What?” He frowned. “Do I look okay?”

Truth be told, he looked fine. But what’s a big brother for if they don’t pick on the younger sibling? “Kid, orange is not your color.” He laughed a bit more. “Whatsoever.” 

Alfie punched him in the leg and stuck out his tongue. “Shut up, ugly.”

”Oh my, I am so offended.” Castiel smiled. “Let’s go, champ. First day!” 

He led Alfie out of the house to his black Ford Focus. Yeah it wasn’t the best, but it got the job done. 

It was a silent but quick ride to school. Castiel dropped Alfie off at his destination with a quick ‘have a great day, I love you’. 

As soon as he went through the doorway, Castiel pulled his backpack up to the front and fished around for his not-water bottle. He took a drink. He knew it wasn’t a healthy habit, but it was better than his other ‘hobbies’. 

He screwed on the cap and drove towards his new High School. 

 

 

                                    *

After his shower, it was only 5:30, so Dean decided to go back to sleep for the extra 30 minutes.

What seemed like only five, was quickly interrupted by the loud and annoying siren that emitted from his alarm clock. “Already?” Dean loudly groaned.

He slipped out of bed and sluggishly made his way to Sammy’s room to wake up the oversized teen. However, as soon as he opened the door, he realized that his little brother was already up and dressed.

”Hey Dean!” 

“Why are you already up, Sammy?” 

“I wanted to wake up early so I can make sure I have all of my stuff together.” He flashed a big smile at Dean.

”Nerd.” He laughed as he left the room to go get some cereal. 

Dean slowly made his way down the stairs into the kitchen. Sitting at the breakfast bar, was his dad. John was reading a newspaper, but looked up at the sound of footsteps. Dean wasn’t ready for an encounter with his dad this early in the day, but there was nothing he could do.

John remained silent for a few minutes, watching his son. Dean rolled up his sleeves to pour the milk into the bowl when John began a slow, menacing clap.

He looked over to see a smug look on his face. “What, dad?”

”Proud of you son.” Dean still looked confused, so he continued. “You managed to make it to the first morning of school without slitting your wrists. Progress.” 

Dean looked down to cereal. Stabbing in a spoon, he left the kitchen and headed up the stairs. What a wonderful way to start off the morning. Hasnt even been awake for 10 minutes and he was already being insulted. Great.

Dean ate at about half of his breakfast before putting it down to get dressed. He had already laid his outfit out yesterday, because if he didn’t, he’d spend an hour trying to decide on what to wear. He slipped on a long sleeved Pink Floyd shirt and worn blue jeans. Dean turned his head to the clock. “Only 6:17,” He said out loud. He didn’t have to leave for school until 6:35, so he just laid in his bed and stared at the poster above his door.

A smile crept to his face at the sight of it.  He continued to stare for a long time until Sam bursted in. “Its 6:25, Dean!”

He groaned. “What about it? We usually leave at 35.”

”Dean. Dude. Brother. Friend. It is my first day of high school. Don’t you think its kind of important that I get there early?”

Dean laughed. “I was 5 minutes late to my first day of high school, and I did great.” 

Sammy rolled his eyes. “Please.” 

“Oh, alright nerd. Let me get my backpack. He followed Sam down the stairs and out the door, luckily John had went back to his room. 

They hopped into the Impala and an insta-smile grew on Dean’s face. “Alright, Baby. Lets go.”

”You know Dean,” Sam started, “Last week I saw an episode of ‘my strange addiction’ and this dude fell in love with his car.” Dean flashed him a look. “He would like make out with it, and dry hump it. To be honest it reminded me of you.”

”Oh zip-it. You’re in love with books written by old men.” 

“First off, that comeback sucked. And second off, i’m in love with Jessica.” His face seemed to light up with just the mention of her name.

Dean smirked. The kid didn’t know about love. Not that he did either, but certainly not Sam.

”Sammy have you ever had sex?”

”Wha-“

Dean cut him off, “I think its time I gave you ‘the talk’” He held up air quotes with one hand since he was still driving. 

“Dean I swear to god you better not. I don’t need to-“

“So basically when you start feeling all tingly down there,” he gestured with his head and cocked his eyebrow. “Thats called an erection. You can often alleviate this sensation by-“

”Dean!” Sam yelled. “Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop now.” 

Dean laugh loudly. “I’m just yankin’ your chain Sammy!”

Sam rolled his eyes and began to reach for the radio until Dean smacked his hand. “Hey, no one touches Baby there but me. Should we also add that to the ‘talk’?”

”No! Thats fine! Just put on some music.” Dean smiled and changed the station to rock. 

Heat of the Moment by Asia played all the way to school. Sam and Dean both sang the lyrics to eachother, exchanging laughs.

 


	4. Hang On To Yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I havent updated in a while. I’m lazy lmao :)

The smell of cheap perfume and newly painted walls filled Castiel’s nose as he walked through the doors of his new school. It was quite large, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

His first stop was to the office to get his schedule. In the front desk sat a heavy, 60 something woman with red curly hair that had obviously been dyed over.

She spoke with a raspy and unsettling voice, “Can I help you, hon?” She smiled showed a speck of red lipsick and something stuck in between her teeth from breakfast. Castiel shuddered with disgust.

“Yes.” He began, “I’m here to pick up my schedule. I’m new to this area.” He forced out a smile that earned him a wink. Swallowing hard, he broke the eye contact.

”Alright, what’s you’re name.” She continued her monstrous smile. “Oh, and by the way I’m Ms.Rainns.”

”I’m Castiel Novak. Thats C-a-s-t-i-e-l and then N-o-v-a-k.”

She left the room for a few minutes and returned with a paper and handed it to Castiel with another wink.

“Thanks.” Castiel remarked quietly.

Walking out of the office, he began to read his schedule—

Mrs. Luther, AP Calculus, room 25M

Mr. Bell, AP Spanish, room 42L

Ms. White, AP Govt. & Politics, room 13S

Mr. Cayhill, Gym

and Mr. Bridges, AP Literature, room 34E

Its a pretty hard schedule, but he’s smart. Castiel looks up at the clock which reads 7:45. Class starts in 5 minutes. He works quickly to find the math hallway.

Once at room 25M, he steps through the door and looks at the board which states “You may pick your seat.” Castiel was afraid of this. If the teacher picked his seat than he wouldn’t be the only one sitting next to someone he didn’t know, but unfortunately he will be.

He decides to sit towards the middle to the right of a guy about his height. The boy has dirty blonde almost brown hair, freckles, and luminous green eyes.

By the time Castiel gets his Math binder and pencils out, the bell rings. A younger woman with lond blonde hair and a warm smile takes the front of the class. She is certainly more charming than the receptionist.

“Welcome to AP Calculus, I’m Mrs. Luther. I’ve had many of you for Algebra and Pre-Cal, but I certainly see many new faces.” She pauses for a moment to get her papers in order. “I’m going to pass out a syllabus and we’re going to go over the expectations and requirements I have for you this year. I’m not gonna lie, this course is hard, but I believe i’m a good enough teacher to make it easy for you.”

For the next hour and then some, she goes on about grades and homework frequencies. Castiel pretended to take notes like everyone else in the class, until the bell sounded. 

A unanimous sound of papers shuffling and backpacks opening filled the air and everyone rushed out to their next class. Castiel was on his way to Spanish. Since he lived in England, he was required to know French, and the school wouldn’t let him take a language he already knew, so he went with Spanish. 

Mr. Bell pretty much droned on about the same thing as Mrs. Luther. The AP Government and Politics teacher, Ms. White, did the same. By the time Cas had heard the teachers talk for over 3 hours, he was excited for gym. 

However, it was pretty much the same in gym class as well. Mr. Cayhill was actually pretty creepy though. He had a brown-grey moustache and wore shorts that he had pulled up far too much. 

Once again, Castiel sat next to the green eyed boy and they exchanged friendly smiles. 

His day continued to be uninteresting and slow until he got to English.

Castiel walked through the door and took a seat in the back room. He got his English notebook out and then looked up to a sight that stunned him. 

Mr. Bridges, his teacher. Castiel looked down at his schedule. “Bridges, Evan, J.” He muttered inaudibly. “Oh shit, shit, shit, shit.” He mouthed. 

Just then, Mr. Bridges looked up from his desk and they made eye contact. Both looking as if they’d seen ghosts.

 

 


End file.
